Firstborn of the Frontier

The sun was red, the skies honey gold, the trees white, and the road in shades of grey, with not a single piece out of place, and yet no matter where Errol looked, all he could see was Caleb’s dead, lifeless gaze, so full of remorse and condemnation.

“Why didn’t you keep your mouth shut, brother?” The dead man asked, his expression frozen in death with torso still askew. “If you had, I’d be home right now with my wife and kids, instead of dead and tied up atop that crazy Qink’s wagon.”

Imagined or not, the dead man was right. Howie had said as much, though he apologized and took it back, but even Sarah Jay thought Errol was in the wrong himself. She didn’t say it out loud, just laid out the facts as they were, facts Errol should have seen for himself, but he was too wrapped up in his own head to see beyond his nose. Couldn’t even blame it on his lack of experience, because it wasn’t like he’d never been out hunting before. Why didn’t he stop to ask why the bramble elk burst out of the trees? Herd animals don’t go running for the fun of it. Even if it wasn’t an outlaw ambush, it could have been something equally as dangerous, like a pack of tuskwulves out for blood. A single one of those giant beasts could take down a hulking muskari, and they never hunted alone, so Errol should have known better than to do what he did, because he’d been told to never let his guard down out in the wild.

Stupid. That’s what he was, and there was no excuse for it. How could one man make so many mistakes? Why didn’t he just keep quiet and follow Howie’s lead? Why could he never remember to take his finger off the trigger once he finished shooting? Why did he stand there like a fool instead of going for cover like he should’ve? Then there was everything leading up to the gunfight itself, because in hindsight, it was so easy to see there was something wrong with Caleb and Adie, but Errol ignored all of Howie’s warnings because he thought he knew better. This was the Highway, less than half a day away from a major city and a Ranger outpost, so what sort of idiot bandit would target them here? Surely Howie was overreacting, because even though there were people who’d kill someone for the boots on their feet, Errol imagined that the type of man to do that sort of thing would be easy to spot. They’d be grizzled and disfigured, as ugly on the outside as they were on the in, a hard-bitten rough-neck who’d glare and draw their weapon for so much as looking at them wrong. That was the sort of person to be wary of out here on the Frontier, not a wretched, downtrodden hunter desperate for a catch, or a scared and nervous Lakota who might’ve had too much to drink.

And now five men were dead because Errol didn’t know any better. Not good men, but men nonetheless, their lives taken in cold, calculated violence at the Firstborn’s hand. He saw it again, Caleb’s eyes going wide with surprise as Howie’s Bolt opened up his chest and threw him from his horse, the very horse Errol was sitting on right now. A dun grey mare, skittish and far too thin, yet her coat and saddle were surprisingly clean considering how much blood had sprayed through the air. Caleb’s blood, found in little drips and flecks, speckled across the beast’s coat and only visible when the blood sunlight hit it just right…

“Don’t fixate on it.”

Howie’s voice pulled Errol out of his thoughts, scaring him so much he almost jumped out of his saddle. The poor mare under him didn’t like it much, dancing about on her thin wizened legs as she tried to muster the courage to roll or throw him. Someone had beaten the spirit out of this poor beast, whipped her into compliance instead of training her right, and Errol’s heart broke to see it. Took a lot of effort to get her back under control again without scaring her any further, and only then did he look back to see what Howie was talking about.

The Firstborn’s eyes were still cold as ever, grim and alert as he scanned the surroundings in a slow and steady arc. A marked change from days past, when he sat with boots up and hat low as if ready to fall asleep in an instant, and he’d been uncharacteristically quiet all afternoon. No jokes or stories, no in-depth lectures or rambling tangents, he just sat there like a real driver, upright with carbine at the ready while loosely holding a set of reins that didn’t do anything besides get in Cowie’s way. Pausing his vigilant watch long enough to meet Errol’s eyes, Howie said, “Focus on something else. Anything else. The trees, the road, the skies. Your place back home, your time with Jay, your favourite story, think about anything you want.” Holding Errol’s gaze with a stern look, Howie added, “Anything except what you been thinking of.”

“You a mind reader now?” The retort came out before Errol could stop himself, so irritated by the other man’s know-it-all manner, mostly because it hammered home how he himself didn’t know shit.

“You’re trying to make sense of what happened back there,” Howie said, proving that he did in fact know everything. “Wondering what you could’ve done different, and how that might’ve changed things.” Giving Errol a look before deliberately breaking eye contact, Howie continued, “There’s no point. They made their choice, which left us with only one. Don’t matter why they did it, what you could’ve done different, or how it might’ve gone better. It’s all in the past, so it’s best you turn those questions towards the future instead, so that you don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

Shame and remorse turned to anger and frustration, but Errol took a deep breath and tried to let it all go. Made no sense to get angry at Howie, because he was just telling it like it is and offering some advice. Good advice, because even if he was a remorseless killer, Howie was right. There was no changing the past, so best consider the future instead. What would he do differently from today onwards? Heed Howie’s advice for starters, so Errol tried to focus on something else, like soothing the dun grey mare beneath him. Leaning forward to give her neck a gentle pat, his heart ached to see her dance away from the touch with a panicked whinny. It would take a lot of love and even more attention to help her recover, as well as plenty of grain to put more meat on her wizened bones. Not many ranchers would care enough to give her the time and attention she so desperately needed, and even if he did help her regain her strength and courage, she’d never be a match for big Bruno. He’d been the best of the bunch back in New Hope, a prime stallion with all the markings of greatness. He was dead now, his corpse dressed and carted along behind Howie’s wagon on two floating sleds he’d pulled out from somewhere or the other.

Bruno was a good horse, a great one even, but now he was bound for the butcher’s block because he had the misfortune of carrying around a fool of a rider who didn’t know any better.

Hot tears streamed down Errol’s cheeks, and he ignored them as best he could. Hope no one would notice either, but there was no chance of that, so he did his damnedest to pretend otherwise and focused on anything else he could. The way the white trees rose up overhead, straight as an arrow until they opened up all at once like flower, with pale branches forming petals to hold up a mass of verdant green leaves. Or the soothing cadence of horse hooves over the cobblestone highway and how it stretched off into the horizon until it disappeared around the bend. Meadowbrook’s chalky grey walls soon came into view, and the roads grew thick with travellers pushing onwards to make it through those darksteel double gates before sunset. Thankfully, Errol’s tears had long since stopped by then, though he felt no better for it as he sat and waited for their turn to enter the city. Aside from a quick glance at their papers and the corpses up top, the guards had no questions because they recognized Howie. Once inside, Errol followed Howie’s directions while taking in the sights, and he was struck by how familiar the town felt. Not in the sense that he’d seen it before, but rather in how the general mood and atmosphere made him feel like he was back at home.

Beautiful as it was, New Hope was all stone streets and brick buildings, which gave it neat and sturdy but unapproachable look. Here in Meadowbrook, the streets were just as wide, except they were made of plain packed dirt with plenty of shrubs and hedges lining the sides. The buildings were built out of wood panels and painted in all sorts of bright, vibrant colours, with plenty of murals depicting all sorts of scenes to give the town an extra added touch of beauty, as well as a sense of communal history which he wasn’t privy to. It was a rustic but cheery look, one that reminded him so much of home, where every building had its own personality, and he saw the same here. The white-washed general store with all its signs to advertise what they sold. The bright red saloon with a banjo band sitting out on the porch and a portrait of a beautiful woman painted on its side. The green grocer covered in paintings of all manner of unfamiliar fruits and vegetables, probably stuff from the old world. Though the buildings were a little rickety and the walls covered in dust, it looked so much brighter and happier than New Hope did, and Errol found himself falling in love with this town at first glance.

The people seemed friendlier too. Oh sure, in New Hope, folks would nod in passing as you rode by, but most were too busy doing something or going somewhere to just stop and chat. That resulted in most town folk in New Hope adopting an air of indifference as they went about their days, while here in Meadowbrook the people were all part of the same community. Predominantly black people, but there were enough white folk too, and a smattering of red and brown. Not many yellow folks, though Errol spied a handful, which was only to be expected of course, but they all melded together in various mixed groups rather than dividing themselves up by colour. Not to say that it happened in New Hope, but people of colour were rare enough there that most folks looked twice wherever he went, especially when he held Sarah Jay’s hand, but he suspected that if he did that here, no one would blink twice.

Everywhere he looked, there were smiling faces, with plenty of folk just hanging about, chatting or dicing or playing instruments to pass the time. Some were even dancing in the streets, the mood bright and jovial throughout the entire town. Many stopped for a word with Howie while others introduced themselves to Errol and Sarah Jay, including a number of lovely young ladies. Too young maybe, and he made sure not to spare more than a smile, because sweet and loving as Sarah Jay might be, she was also a jealous one. That said, most townsfolk stopped to stare at Howie’s wagon as they passed, and Errol could hardly blame them. There were five bodies stacked up top, uncovered for all the world to see, as well as an elk and horse carcass to boot, to say nothing of the imposing sight of the armed and armoured metal wagon itself. Howie didn’t let any of that bother him though, saying little until they pulled up in front of the Sherrif’s office. Didn’t head right in either, and instead instructed them to see to all the animals first, a task Errol was glad to have. Sensing something up, Sarah Jay gave his hand a squeeze, and he flashed her a smile as best he could, even though he didn’t feel like smiling much. After checking to make sure Howie wasn’t looking, she leaned in close nuzzled his cheek, not quite hugging or kissing him, but just about. “Don’t you ever feel like you gotta hide your pain from me,” she whispered, her voice all hot and angry as can be. “You my man, which means I want all of you. Every sob and tear, every laugh and smile, and nothing less.”

Only Sarah Jay would get angry in a situation like this, and Errol couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes ma’am,” he replied, giving her a tip of his cap as he lost himself in her warm, brown eyes and marvelled at how lucky he truly was to have won her affection. “My mistake. Won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Giving his cheeks a one-handed squeeze, she gave him a quick peck before getting on with her work to water the horses. There were a few extras now, animals recovered from the bandits, but together, they weren’t worth half of what Bruno cost, if that. Nothing to do about it now except make it up to Howie in the long-term, so Errol worked double time to get the horses settled. Once they were done, Howie marched inside and made a bee-line for the Sheriff’s desk, where he handed over the medallion from his hat before making the introductions. Sherrif Glover was a grizzled old black man with salt and pepper hair and more wrinkles than Dr. Harding back in New Hope. There were no smiles from the gruff old lawman, no words even, just a grunt and a scowl as he looked them over from behind his desk with a cigar in hand and quietly conveyed just how tired and unimpressed he was. Grumbling up a wordless storm under his breath, Sherrif Glover placed Howie’s medallion on top of a wired metal box, one fixed to a stand holding up an inch-thick pane of clear, quartz crystal.

And suddenly, Errol was all too aware of the fact that Howie had a recording device in his hat, and his cheeks coloured as he went over the last week and a half to see if he and Sarah Jay had done anything untoward in line of sight. Not that he expected Howie would spy on them like that, but better safe than sorry after all, and the thought exercise kept him from having to watch too closely as Caleb and Adie died again.

The recording was mercifully short, not even two full minutes from start to finish, and the Sherrif was content to only watch it once and stop as soon as the shooting ended, though it looked like it continued on for a bit more. “You’re clear Howie,” he growled, with the gravelly voice of a lifelong smoker as he handed the medallion back and collected a second crystal from the back of the metal box. “Clean shoot. Don’t darken my doorstep again for another month at least. Seeing too much of your scrawny ass these days. Ruins my whole damn week, showing up like you do with a mess of bodies stacked on your roof like this.”

“Oh I’ll be back soon enough,” Howie replied, grinning even as Sherrif Glover’s scowl deepened into a frown. “Betting there’s gonna be a bounty on least one of those fools, and I’ll need you to sign off on it.”

Sherrif Glover grunted and grimaced in reply before shaking his head, grumbling all the while as he filled out some papers and stamped them. “Caleb’s clean,” he said, “But just barely. No bounty on him. Always was a clever one. Fat lot of good that did him. Never seen the Red before, and couldn’t I.D the other three from the video, but I’ll put one of my deputies on it.” Turning his sour gaze to Errol and Sarah Jay again, Sherrif Glover said, “Don’t know where you found these two fools, but send ‘em back. They ain’t ready for the open road.”

“No one ever is.”

That’s all Howie said, and Sherrif Glover grunted in acknowledgement. “Least you had the good sense to get them armoured up, though not enough sense to wear armour yourself. Maybe they’ll make something of themselves, but that might be even worse. One of you is already too much Howie. Can’t imagine how much paperwork I’ll have to do once there’s three of you running around.”

Wasn’t comfortable standing around listening to Howie and the Sherrif talk about him like he wasn’t there. Errol put up with it because he didn’t know what else to do. Sarah Jay wasn’t any happier, but she kept quiet too, and Howie soon switched topics to ask after the gruff Sherrif’s wife and kids. That only made the man scowl even harder as he complained about this and that, but underneath it all, Errol could tell the man loved his family. He cared about Howie too, telling him repeatedly to leave off this ‘fool’s business’ and settle down with a ‘nice black girl who’d set him straight’. Then their conversation was cut short as the door to the Sherrif’s office flew open and a bald, moustached giant of a man ducked down and stepped through.

“Howie!” The bellow was deep and guttural, one that struck fear into Errol’s heart and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it as he jumped aside with Sarah Jay. Stomping over with a wild look in his eyes and a ferocious glower etched across his rugged face, the angry ebony giant didn’t stop until he was looming over Howie. Made the Firstborn look like a child, as the giant was at least seven feet tall and two and a half feet wide, with bulging black biceps thicker than most men’s torsos which filled his short-sleeved crème-coloured button-up to the seams. Chest heaving with barely restrained rage, the giant leaned down until he was almost forehead to forehead with Howie so he could look him dead in the eyes. “You trying to give me a heart attack, boy?” the giant snarled, his tone surly and sharp as could be.

Unperturbed, Howie stood there with neck craned and a big smile on his face. “Oh hey Marcus,” he said, running his hand through his hair to move his bangs out of his eyes. Looked good with his hair slicked back, and Errol made a note to mention it to him sometime, since he could use a little help in the style department. “Didn’t see you there. How’s tricks?”

“No,” Marcus retorted, his tone filled with heat and intensity as he shook his head so hard that the veins in his neck and biceps started throbbing. “Nuh-uh. Twice in one month now, you’ve come through my gates with a new hole in you, and all you’ve got to say is ‘how’s tricks’?!”

“Aw c’mon now. This hardly counts. Was barely a graze.”

“Barely a graze?!” Tilting his head for a better angle to intimidate from, Marcus repeated himself again, the whites of his eyes and teeth standing out in sharp contrast against his ebony skin. “You really gonna stand there with a hole in your side and argue semantics with me?”

“Wouldn’t have to if you got your facts straight.”

“Boy, if you wasn’t hurt and bleeding, I’d whup your ass from here to New Hope and back again.”

“You ain’t got the stones Marcus.” Howie’s grin widened even further as he puffed up his chest. “Aunty Ray’d send you back clucking like a chicken the whole way.”

Unable to keep up the angry façade, Marcus’s angry scowl melted away into the gentlest of grins as he straightened up and back off. “Yea she would, wouldn’t she? Always did dote on you. Spoiled you rotten she did.” Turning to Errol and Sarah Jay, he offered his giant hand and said, “You must be Errol and Sarah Jay. Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Captain Marcus Clay.” After shaking both their hands, Marcus turned on Howie and barked, “What you still standing around for, huh? Get your bony ass to the hospital!”

“Had it about to here with everyone mentioning my ass.” Howie grumbled, but no one paid him any mind.

Instead, Captain Marcus took a good long look at Errol, and he stood up a little straighter for it. “I heard about what happened to you, son,” Captain Marcus said, clapping Errol’s shoulder with a soft look in his eyes. “I want you know how sorry I am about how things shook out. Were it up to me, I’d have kept you on, but it’s good to see you landed on your feet. Howie’s got a couple rough edges, but he’s a good man to have at your back in a firefight.”

“Don’t I know it, sir,” Errol replied, awed that a man like Captain Marcus would know about him, or speak so highly of Howie. “Saved my bacon today, and showed me I still got a lot to learn.”

“Work hard then,” Captain Marcus replied, giving him a nod of approval, and Errol’s spirits soared to see it. This was a man who embodied what the Rangers were supposed to represent, he just knew it at a glance. Strong and powerful, but kind and compassionate, that was Marcus in a nutshell, his concern for Howie so genuine and heartfelt it couldn’t have been faked. After a few words with Sarah Jay, Captain Marcus turned to Howie with another scowl. “Boy, you must be dumb and deaf. Did I not tell you to get to the hospital? Twice no less. You waiting for me to drag you there myself?”

“I’ll get there when I get there,” Howie drawled, making a point to rock back and forth on his heels. “Soon as I get my prospects settled in at the travel lodge.”

“You just get yourself checked out, mind and body both, because there must be something wrong with you.” Putting his massive hands-on Errol and Sarah Jay’s shoulders, Captain Marcus guided them towards the door. “Simone got the guest rooms all cleaned up when she heard you was riding with two. Take a horse and leave Cowie and the wagon with me.”

“Much appreciated, you opening up your home to us, but I think it’s best if we stayed at the travel lodge.” Seeing the frown on the Captain’s face, Howie explained, “I wanted to talk shop a bit, and they’ll be stickin’ round town for a stretch. Two weeks at least, so we wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Sarah Jay said, rounding on Howie in a fury, and credit to him, he didn’t flinch one bit. “What you mean ‘stickin’ round town’? You givin’ up on us already?”

“Didn’t say nothing about giving up,” Howie said, cutting Sarah Jay off before she could build up any momentum, and firing her up even more. “I’m doing what I should’ve done to begin with, and leaving you someplace safe until I can train you up proper. I said it didn’t I? You ain’t ready, and you lucky to be alive after what happened today, so you both best sit tight while I handle my business. Regardless of what happens, I’ll make sure you both get back to New Hope safe, if that’s what you want. I mean, who knows. Maybe you’ll like Meadowbrook so much you’ll both want to stay. They’d welcome a helping hand from two promising young folk like yourselves.”

“Talk about it after you get checked out,” Captain Marcus said, interrupting Sarah Jay before she could reply, and miracle of all miracles, she didn’t shoot the big man a glare, though Howie bore the full force of it with only the slightest of flinches. “All three of you are staying with me tonight, and that’s final. Simone will have my hide if I send you off to the travel lodge after all the trouble she went through getting the spare rooms ready.”

Even Howie knew better than to argue anymore, so he left with little more than a shake of his head. As for Errol and Sarah Jay, they waited around while Captain Marcus shared a few hushed words with Sherrif Glover before watching the gunfight on the strange device again. Apparently, that second crystal was a recording, and curious as Errol was to know how a gemstone could store words and images, he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on soothing Sarah Jay’s temper while fighting down his guilt. He knew just how much she was counting on this job with the Firstborn and how eager she was to start earning, but now it looked like they were getting benched because of him.

This day was just getting better and better.

Truth be told, if it wasn’t for Sarah Jay’s situation, Errol would be more than happy to explore alternatives to working with the Firstborn, and maybe even find something where they wouldn’t have to shoot people dead. Fighting against Abby was one thing, but he didn’t know if he had it in him to shoot a living breathing person. Even knowing Caleb meant to rob and kill him, Errol kept seeing the man’s eyes as he breathed his last before his body hit the highway, all bent and askew from the force of Howie’s Rattlesnake. In retrospect, a boring life on a ranch didn’t seem half bad anymore, or even a job here in Meadowbrook doing… anything really. There was probably a ranch nearby, but if not, he could go into construction maybe, or mining if that’s all that was available. It was hard and dangerous work, with plenty of long-term health hazards and the occasional dust up with Abby, but it paid well enough to support a family. Sarah Jay’s family at first, but maybe one day, their own family too. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

No it wouldn’t, but it wasn’t the life Sarah Jay wanted. Money was only one reason why she signed on with the Rangers, so even if Howie washed his hands of them, she wouldn’t give up so easily. Neither would Errol, and not just because he wanted to stand by her side. While he didn’t contribute much during the fight with the goblins, he’d never felt more alive or significant than in that moment when he shot that first goblin in the arm. Didn’t even kill it, but it felt like he was doing something important, fighting the good fight against Abby and making the Frontier just a little bit safer. That’s what he’d dreamed of doing as a kid, to avenge his parents and do everything he could to make sure no more kids ended up like him, orphaned and alone.

That was his goal, his purpose, his ambition in life. To be a fighter, a protector, a defender. Then again, one of the things people needed defending from was other people, so that wasn’t something he could avoid…

After a short jaunt through Meadowbrook, it was clear that Captain Marcus Clay embodied that ideal in a way Errol couldn’t even begin to understand. Large and intimidating though he might be, that didn’t stop the townsfolk from walking right up to him for a chat, asking him to look into this or what the progress was on that, and he seemed more than happy to answer on the spot, just as others were happy to help him by taking the elk and poor Bruno off his hands. The good Captain had his huge fingers on the pulse of Meadowbrook, his answers always quick and to the point, even if it was to say, “I don’t know, but I’ll look in on it and get back to you.” They always took that answer in stride too, which told Errol that the Ranger Captain meant it, because he was a man who wanted this town to succeed.

The man’s home only reinforced that image, as they pulled up in front of a cozy wood panel cabin, the natural tones of the warm brown timbers offset by a lovely light-grey cobblestone foundation. “It’s not much to look at,” Captain Marcus said, giving them both a big smile as they headed past the front door for the barn next door, “But this is home.”

And home it was, just littered with little details and personal touches that spoke volumes to the love and attention that went into every decision. The large, well-worn outdoor furniture with neatly fitted cushions, picture frame windows with blackout curtains drawn aside, neatly carved door with its bronze, bull-head knocker, well-tended flowerbeds bursting with colour and variety, it all lent weight to the truth behind Captain Marcus’ statement, that this was not just a house, but a home.

“It’s a right lovely home in a right lovely town,” Sarah Jay said, as warm and bright as a summer day, and the earnest statement made the Captain’s rugged features break open in a weather-worn smile.

“Figured we’d only be living in this wooden box for a year or two before tearing it down,” he said as they headed up the well-trodden walkway, one lined with natural stones to hold back the encroaching grass. “Problem is, the towns been growing faster than anyone expected, so all our stone and brick has been earmarked for expanding the walls. Good problem to have all things considered, because what good is a settlement without people to live there? Howie wasn’t lying when he said you’d be welcome here, as there’s always work to be done.”

But not the right kind of work, so Errol merely nodded along as he brought the horses into the barn and saw to their feed, pouring Cowie an extra measure of grains and a whispered thanks for saving his hide earlier today, which the bull graciously accepted with smug moo. Just as he was about to brush the horses, Captain Marcus sent Sarah Jay inside to help his wife before taking Errol aside to sit and chat on the porch bench. “So,” he began, sinking into his seat and causing the wrought iron to bounce like rubber, “First time seeing a man die?” Errol nodded, unable to speak past the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat, but the Captain took his silence in stride. “Not an easy thing, nor should it be.”

“Seems easy enough for Howie,” Errol replied, suddenly finding his voice in his frustration. That’s all it took to break the dam on his emotions, and his tears flowed freely as he told the other man everything that happened. “Shot those men dead and shook it off like nothing. Cold as ice he was, cold as ice.”

“That what you think Errol?” There was a hard edge to the Captain’s tone, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes. “Tell me, when he dragged you over to those dead bodies and screamed at you, did that strike you as nothing? That strike you as ice cold?” It didn’t, and right away, Errol understood what the man was getting at. “It wasn’t kind,” Captain Marcus said, shaking his head in marked disapproval, “Or even called for, but we all do stupid things when we’re scared, and make no mistake Errol, Howie was scared, for your life, if not his own. That’s why he’s benching the two of you, because he doesn’t want your deaths on his conscience.” Giving him a pat on the back, Marcus fell silent and pretended not to notice as Errol wiped away his tears and rambled on to cover up his sniffles. “You ever hear of Ming, Howie’s daddy? Now there was a man who was cold as ice. Fourteen years, and I never once heard him raise his voice or lash out in anger. Always wore the same frosty expression, whether he was fighting or relaxing, and he never lost his cool. Howie on the other hand, he got his temper from his mama, and a double dose of stubborn from the both of them. An explosive combination to be sure, and you got the worst of it today.” Heaving a sigh, Marcus shook his head and turned to face Errol, now that he was done covering up his weakness. “Enough about Howie though. We’re talking about you, so how are you holding up?”

The answer was obvious, but the devil was in the details as Father Nicolas liked to say. “How am I holding up?” Errol asked, his body trembling once more as he stared into his open hands. “Every time I lose focus, I see Caleb’s face again, watch the life drain from his eyes again. Even though it’s only been a few hours, I can already feel it eating away at me. I’m exhausted, but terrified to even think about falling asleep, because I’m worried that when I close my eyes, I’ll find Caleb’s face waiting there for me.”

“You will,” Captain Marcus said, and Errol felt the last vestiges of hope crumble away.

“So what do I do?”

“Hard to say.” The Captain wasn’t exactly being helpful here, but he wasn’t being intentionally difficult either, as when Errol found the courage to look up, he found a troubled but sympathetic man looking back. “It’s different for everyone. For some, they bottle these feelings up inside, while others will cry until it doesn’t hurt. There are those who will try to justify their actions, say they were left with no choice, only following orders, or that they reacted on instinct. Me, I’ve found that talking helps, with my wife, my pastor, my Rangers, anyone who knows what it’s like. Now, none of this actually solves the problem, nor does it always help, but it can, so you should try it. Last of all, time will usually dull the pain, but for now, if you need someone to talk to or help you through this, I’m here, Sarah Jay is here, and I know Howie will do his best to help you too.”

There was a strength to Captain Marcus that had nothing to do with his size, a confident vulnerability shared that made him even greater than he appeared. There he sat, larger than life, yet he knew Errol’s pain and was burdened by it too, which was enough to make him feel just a little better in the moment, but not by much. Heaving a sigh as he slumped in his seat, Errol took a deep breath and said, “Thank you, sir. Not to sound ungrateful or anything, it’s just… I’d hoped there’d be an easier solution to all this.”

“Like I said, it shouldn’t be easy,” came the reply, as Captain Marcus gently clapped him on the shoulder, “Life is precious, and even more so here on the Frontier. You’re conflicted because you know that, and there is no shame in this struggle. I’d worry more if you didn’t feel this way, because it means you’re missing an important part of what it means to be human.”

Which made perfect sense to Errol, and again made him feel a tiny bit better, until he wondered what that made Howie. No sense bringing it up just yet though, since Captain Marcus had the Firstborn’s back. They sat in silence for a minute or two until the other man broke it to ask, “So tell me, how’s Howie holding up in your estimation?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Captain Marcus began, running a hand over his mouth and moustache, a neat line of well trimmed facial hair. “Would you say he’s a good teacher, compared to say one of the drill sergeants from Basic?”

“…No.” Though it was true, Errol hurriedly added, “It’s just… Howie covers a lot of ground really quickly and expects you to remember it all. In Basic, they told you one thing, and drilled it into you until it stuck. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take Howie’s lectures over getting screamed at any day of the week, but it’s hard to keep track of everything he says.”

“Yea, that sounds like Howie.” Heaving a sigh, Marcus shook his head and said, “He’s got more experience roughing it out on the Frontier than some Rangers and is naturally talented in many ways, but I was pretty sure teaching wouldn’t be one of his strengths. Things come too easily to him, so he doesn’t understand when people struggle with concepts he picked up without even trying.” After a short pause, he asked, “Maybe this is too early to ask, but I got to know. You having second thoughts about your chosen profession? Maybe considering calling it quits to find a safer line of work? No shame in it if you say yes, because most aren’t made for bloodshed. I certainly wasn’t at first, but I managed, because I had people counting on me and people to support me. You, you don’t owe anyone anything. Could walk away and find work doing almost anything else, and no one would think less of you.”

Rather than say yes, Errol thought things through before answering. “I’d like to keep trying,” he said, once he realized he didn’t know for certain. “Fighting Abby, I know I can handle, even if it leaves me shaking in my boots. It’s what I want to do, but as for the other stuff… I don’t know yet.”

“Good answer.” Nodding slowly, Captain Marcus smiled and said, “That’s all anyone can ask of you, Errol. To try. Might not sound like much, but most folks don’t have courage enough to even do that much, not until they’ve no other choice. C’mon.” Getting up from the bench, the Captain gestured for Errol to follow him inside, which was as quaint and homey as the outside. Sitting at the dining table was Sarah Jay who looked up with teary eyes from her conversation with a petite black woman who couldn’t be more than five foot two. Taking a quick moment to tip his hat at who he presumed was miss Simone, he hurried over to Sarah Jay and knelt down beside her. Taking her hand in his, he didn’t know what to say, so he looked her in the eyes, held her hand to his lips, and waited for her to tell him what was wrong, but all she did was shake her head.

“Now ain’t you a handsome young buck,” Miss Simone said, in that same southern drawl as Sarah Jay, her rich tenor voice smooth as honey. “Sweet as honey too. No wonder she speaks so highly of you. You best hang on to this girl tight, because boy you got yourself a prize.”

“Don’t I know it ma’am,” he said, pressing Sarah Jay’s hand against his cheek with a smile.

Snatching her hand away in embarrassment, Sarah Jay scowled and said, “Was just telling miss Simone how Howie’s all but washed his hands of us.”

“Oh honey,” miss Simone said, patting Sarah Jay’s cheek with a wry little smile, “If Howie wanted to be rid of you, he’d say as much. That boy don’t beat around the bush, so he ain’t done with you just yet.”

“Then how come he’s talking like he’s about to cut us loose?” Crossing her arms in adorable pique, Sarah Jay crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. “Goin’ on about how we might want to stay in Meadowbrook for good while he’s fixing to run off and hunt Abby solo for two weeks. Probably would’ve hunted down that whole warband by his lonesome if we weren’t there, instead of lying low and watching it saunter past.”

“What warband?” Burning with an intensity that made Errol’s skin itch, Captain Marcus was sudden all business and ready to fight. “How many?”

“Group of orcs and goblins in the desert, some two-hundred strong,” Howie replied, letting himself in through the front door and leaving a hang-dog baby Cowie to peer through the windows with a hang-dog expression. “Spotted them last night moving southeast from round about twelve klicks northeast from the outpost. Howdy Simone.” Flashing a smile that was wider and more genuine than anything Errol had seen all day, Howie marched in before remembering to take his hat off, which he promptly threw over his shoulder without looking to land on a hook next to the door. A minor thing, but it hammered home just how aware Howie was of his surroundings at all times, yet another way in which he stood out from the crowd. “Looking more lovely than ever I see.” The duster followed immediately after, tossed back without a glance to the same effect as he arrived at the table and opened up his map for the Captain to look at. “Round these parts here,” he added, pointing at a stretch of desert. “Likely mapping escape routes to make sure they catch as many as they can.”

“Means they’re close,” Captain Marcus growled, and Howie nodded in agreement, leaving Errol and Sarah Jay both out of the loop. “We’ll have to watch for ambushes on our way in then.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard so long as you keep a couple skirmishers a klick or two ahead of the rest.” Somehow, Howie’s smile grew even bigger as he said, “Or, you could hire on a trusted Scout to help clear the way.”

“Unnecessary.” Waving a hand in dismissal, Captain Marcus studied the map a bit longer and said, “Not many places to stage a proper ambush out there, so it’ll be good practice for the boots.”

“What boots?” Sarah Jay asked, though Errol figured she’d have been better off keeping quiet, because Howie and Captain Marcus both looked surprised by her interruption, no doubt having forgotten they were both there. “The boots from Basic? They’re coming here?”

“…No?” Howie replied, his tone and expression so comically untrustworthy it had to be on purpose, but Sarah Jay wasn’t laughing. “Sorry,” Howie said, looking anything but. “Information is on a need-to-know basis, and y’all don’t need to know.”

“Tell them,” Captain Marcus said, still poring over the map. “Won’t do them any favours treating them like porcelain. If they’re willing, I’ll stick them with the rest of the boots to maybe learn a thing or two.”

Howie didn’t answer right away, which wasn’t a good sign, and he spent a long second looking Errol and Sarah Jay over while radiating doubt. “You sure about that?” he asked, his brow furrowed in genuine concern as he turned to Marcus. “They got the chops to face off against Abby once you lay out the plan, but they get a bit hard of thinking when the chips are down, if you know what I mean. If things play out like I expect them to – ”

“Abby’s all they need to worry about,” Captain Marcus interrupted. “The Rangers will handle the rest. Captain Jung already assured me that there was nothing lacking in their abilities, so as long as they follow orders, they’ll do just fine.”

“Really?” Still looking unconvinced, Howie looked at them, then back to Captain Marcus. “Not to cast any aspersions on Ava’s abilities – ”

“Captain Jung,” Captain Marcus growled, “Knows her work better than you. You expect too much from them Howie. They’re kids, and unlike you, they didn’t grow up treating the badlands like their backyard. Give them time, and they’ll catch up soon enough. Sooner once they cut their teeth in this operation, so I’d worry less about them and more about yourself. I’ve got permission from the Marshal himself to treat you like any other boot. You so much as step a single toe out of line, and I’ll kick your ass six ways from Sunday while he holds Rachel back.”

Rather than quail at the threat, Howie’s eyes went wide with excitement. “This mean you hiring me on?” He asked. “All official?”

“Yes, but like I said, you best behave like a boot.” Poking Howie in the chest, Captain Marcus growled, “The Marshal hoped you’d have sense enough to stay away, but knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself, not after Tim checked in and went over your little heart to heart.”

“Don’t blame Tim. He meant well.” After firing off a cheeky salute, Howie turned to Errol and Sarah Jay with a twinkle in his eye. “Okay. Long story short, there’s an army of Abby headed towards a town called Pleasant Dunes. It’s about six days east of here, and a full Company of Rangers are riding out to defend it along with all them boots. I was gonna leave you here and join in on the efforts, because I wasn’t about to risk your necks for nothin’, but if you want, you can come along for the experience.” Shrugging, Howie made a face and said, “Honestly, now that I’ve said it out loud, I gotta say that the smart money is on stayin’ here. Not much to learn fighting from a static position, and you ain’t gonna earn more if you go, so you might as well take a week or two to relax.”

It was so obvious now that Captain Marcus had pointed it out, and Errol marvelled at how he hadn’t seen it sooner. It was right there in the way Howie offered them the easy way out, each and every time, not as a challenge like Errol thought, but a genuine offer because he was lacking confidence. Guess Howie wasn’t as cold or cocky as he seemed then. He just had a strange way of going about it.

“That’s why you were gonna bench us?” Sarah Jay asked, and Errol couldn’t help but feel like she was missing the whole point. “Because you was fixing on joining this operation?” Howie nodded, and oddly enough, Sarah Jay smiled, a knowing little smile which made the Firstborn’s cheeks go red. Happy with whatever answer she’d arrived at, she turned to Errol and gave him a look, one that said the decision was his.

Errol didn’t have to think too hard about it, because this was exactly what he signed on for in the first place, and he knew Sarah Jay felt the same way. “We’re in,” he said, giving Howie a half-hearted salute and a smile. “You hired us on to watch your back, so that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Which was exactly the right thing to say apparently, as Howie opened his mouth, then closed it, having been struck speechless. Now there was a feat to be proud of, so Errol basked in the accomplishment and prayed that he hadn’t just consigned himself and Sarah Jay to doom.

Maybe he should’ve asked a few more questions, but if the boots in Basic were going, then it couldn’t be that bad, right?